


Wish Under the Moon

by MorinoAthame



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Drinking, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, St. Patrick's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorinoAthame/pseuds/MorinoAthame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zell is on his way home after a mission and feeling down in the dumps. Stopping over in a town he'd never visited before, he has one of the oddest nights of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish Under the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago for a holiday fic exchange. I'm trying to transfer some of my older stuff over here, and I couldn't leave this one out.

Zell frowned as he stared at his beer. The wood grain of the table was biting into his chin where it pressed into the unpolished surface. He could hear the festivities going on around him but didn't partake in the celebration. He wasn't a local; only passing through after a mission.

The mission had been long and tiring, mentally more than physically. In point of fact, it had been dreadful. Not because of the mission details themselves, but because of all else going on around him at the time. Watching the lovers he'd been escorting from Balamb to Galbaldia… They had been most affectionate lovers. Seeing them like that reminded him what he didn't have, what he longed for. Visiting Galbaldia only made it worse, reminding of _who_ he wanted.

The blond heaved a heavy sigh, turning his mug of green tinted beer. He paid half a thought in wondering _why_ the locals made it green for the local coming of spring ceremony. But, quickly, the question passed, and he was lost to his melancholy again. Never mind he'd been sitting there like that long enough his beer was warm. Long enough he no longer had any condensation to try to amuse himself with. His back would no doubt protest when he finally moved; no matter how athletic and in shape he was. Muscles could only be stretched for so long before they could take no more.

He sat for another half an hour before the barkeep, Ol' Pat or Patty the locals called him, offered to bring him something stronger than the now very warm beer sitting neglected before his glum face. The blond contemplated accepting for a moment, but the taste of strong alcohol never really agreed with him. Telling the barkeep this, the older man just smiled and patted his shoulder. He had just the thing, he said before walking away.

Ol' Pat was an older man; probably well into his fifties if Zell had to guess. His fading red hair was beginning to turn white along its receding line. His heavy beard wasn't quite so faded but was not unaffected by slivers of white spread throughout its wavy locks. The man was broad but not overly tall, a little shorter than Zell, and stout enough the SeeD imagined the old guy could take on a dozen men without too much trouble; or sling a keg of beer up on his shoulder, as he had seen him do. Time had taken its toll on the man's strong body, as well, not to mention the occupational hazard of running a tavern; Patty had a nice sized middle from standing behind the bar and sampling his own wares. There was always a pipe in his smiling mouth, and he got along with everyone he talked to.

Zell liked the old man, but he paid no more mind to him. Not until a glass of what looked like chocolate milk was set before him. "Trust me, laddie. It's good for whatever ails ye." He grinned around his pipe, as if he knew something no one else could know.

Thinking what the hell, Zell raised his head just enough to down it, wincing as the muscles of his shoulders and neck protested the movement; though, those in his jaw and chin were more than happy to have relief from being pressed into the hard table. The liqueur flowed past his tongue and warmed him as it slid down his throat, burning a pleasantly warm trail all the way to his stomach. Licking his lips with an audible smack, he smiled. "Mm. Chocolate." He liked chocolate, a fact he let few know.

The old man chuckled. "Let me get y'another, laddie." He wandered off before it occurred to Zell how much effect just one was having on him. The tavern master returned and left the next chocolate drink and a cold beer, before leaving with the barely touched warm one.

Zell drank the chocolate flavored shot a little slower than the first, enjoying the warm burn longer, before washing it away with some of the beer. He then plunked his chin back down on the table, his shoulders, and even lower back, feeling relief as the tension of holding his head up eased away. A dull ache was left behind, but he ignored it. He'd felt worse.

His eyes roamed his surroundings, taking in drunken antics, friendly goofing around, bar games, flirting, and general celebration and fun. There was a drinking contest going on in the back corner, a man was falling over himself to impress a woman, a bear of a man had a smaller guy in a head lock and was rubbing his knuckles into the small guy’s head, darts were being thrown, and stories were being told with great elaboration. None of it stood out to him more than anything else, and none of it helped with his mood or his boredom.

Just as he began to grow bored enough to draw on his mug again, eyes shifting back to his beer, a draft blew passed him, though it felt like it went through him. He glanced around to the door, but it hadn't been opened, and he seemed to be the only one to notice what had happened. About to pass it off as some freak thing, induced on his imagination or by the chocolate shots he'd had earlier, he noticed something fluttering down toward the table from somewhere above his head. It brushed the tip of his nose, catching on his breath and fluttering over to his mug, where it stuck to the perspiration and slid down to the table's surface.

Frowning, and trying to hold in a sneeze so as not to send the small bit of green flying away, he reached forward and plucked the bit of leaf off the table. As far as he could tell, it was a piece of a plant he didn't know, and he started to toss it away before a voice stopped him. "Careful, laddie," Patty stilled his hand by placing his own on Zell's arm. "Don't just toss away a gift, m'boy." He smiled at Zell, and the blond wondered why the hell he should think some leaf was a gift. "Looks like the wee folk may bless y'tonight. Make a wish, laddie, an' keep the clover close. Don't take it out again until yer under the full moon, then make yer wish again."

Zell looked at him funny. "You can't be…" The old man was nuts, but he didn't get to finish telling him so before Ol' Pat cut him off.

"Just do it, laddie." He patted the blond on the back, though it was more like pounding and made Zell wince as it jarred his sore, stiff muscles, and he walked away, again. Zell wondered how he kept coming up behind him without being heard, but passed it off as the noise in the bar, his mood, and the small amount of booze in his blood.

Eying the small plant, clover the man had called it, he couldn't help but think what he would wish for, if he believed the nonsense. For the old man's benefit, he stuck the clover in his pocket and went back to glumly sitting, waiting for it to grow late enough, and quiet enough, to go back to the inn and sleep. There was celebration going on everywhere, especially outside, and no doubt he'd hear it if he went back to the inn right away; he'd get no sleep.

The tattooed SeeD wasn't sure how much longer he'd sat there before one by one the patrons and guests began to trickle off to wherever they planned to have their night's rest. The noise from outside had grown quieter, and the blond imagined but for a few stubborn or homeless drunks, the streets would soon be deserted. Dreading moving, he realized it was time he shoved off back to his room, too.

Ol' Pat had yet to close, but it was still unexpected when Zell heard someone come in. People had only been going out for the last hour or so. Still, he paid no great attention, though he did note the footsteps were sure, a confident stride you wouldn't find in a bumbling or shuffling drunk; which was his first impulse as to who would come into a bar this late. He knew it was no one he knew, nor anyone he needed to worry about, so he didn't put any more thought to it.

Minutes passed, and Zell was aware of eyes on him. He knew the barkeep had been keeping a concerned eye on him all night, so he passed it off as that. The old guy would probably be over to see to him if he didn't get up soon. Taking in an extra deep lung full of air, the blond let it out slowly and braced his hands on the table. He'd really have to find some monsters to pound to work out how sore he was, he realized as he forced himself to sit up slowly.

Once upright, he had to brace himself. His muscles didn't want to contract, and his body tried to re-extend itself. He groaned, knowing they would knot up soon. As long as he could walk and make it back to his inn room, he'd deal with that when it happened. A nice hot bath was most assuredly in his future if he had any hopes of moving the next day.

Sparing one arm to fish into his pocket for gil, he was too focused on keeping himself upright and in the chair to hear someone come up behind him. He about jumped out of his skin, and twisted his back painfully when a hand landed on his shoulder. Ol' Pat's chuckle met his ears. "Sorry, laddie. Do y'need help gettin' back t'yer room?"

Zell had the decency to look a little sheepish. He was a SeeD, he reminded himself. This behavior was unbecoming. "No, but thanks." He handed over the gil for the drinks he had drunk and the beers he hadn't. "Was nice to meet you." He offered a smile as he stood, a little wobbly until his muscles caught up with the movement.

"Always welcome here, m'boy." The old man walked with him to the door, and Zell realized he was the last to leave. It was just him and Patty standing in the bar. _Did I imagine someone coming in?_ He was pretty sure he'd processed a good deal of the alcohol from earlier, and it had never made him drunk, or really even buzzed too bad. There was no reason he should be imagining things.

He realized, too, that he still felt eyes on him, and obviously not the old guy's as he was beside him. The whole evening was getting to be too weird, even with shit he'd seen, and he figured he should just leave and put it all behind him. "Night, old man. Maybe I'll visit again when things aren't so... festive."

Patty laughed. "Lad, things are always festive in my tavern." He grinned and winked. "Everyone needs a good laugh and smoke with their drink." He patted Zell on the back with his usual pounding, making the blond wince. "Come back in about a month an' the village will be havin' chocolate runnin' out our ears an' spring chicks an' bunnies everywhere. You might enjoy the egg hunts an' games, too." It was always pretty plain to people that Zell was the sort of guy that liked to have fun, and didn't have trouble finding and enjoying some.

"I might come, and bring some friends." It sounded like something Selphie would love, probably Quistis and Xu, too, and Rinoa maybe.

"I'll look fer y', lad. Now off with ye. Pleasant evenin, an' don't ferget yer wish." He poked the pocket that held the clover with a twinkle in his eyes.

Zell nodded and left. He told himself to ignore the faint laughter he heard behind Patty. Not only because there was no one there but because it had sounded . . . weird. A lilting laugh, like that of a youngster, only it sounded much too masculine to be from any child.  _Just get to bed and sleep of this… stupor._ He could think of no other way to describe it, though he knew he wasn't influenced by the alcohol he'd had.

Slowly, he made his way along the deserted street. He hadn't realized it was so late. The village was small, just a bit bigger than Winhill, if you pushed the other together. There were no street lights, so all he had was the light of the moon to guide him. He remembered the way easily, so his feet moved without him needing to worry about seeing the way or having to think about it.

Halfway, give or take a little, he paused to stretch and realized that there were footfalls behind him. He wondered why he'd not noticed before. They were heavy sounds, likely a large man wearing heavy boots. He began to turn around but found himself suddenly lifted off his feet and into someone's arms. Adrenaline immediately pumped through him, and he swung his elbow toward the head of whoever was unfortunate enough to grab him. If they thought he was easy prey, they'd have another thing coming.

His assailant seemed to have anticipated this reaction, jerking his head back and to the side to minimize the impact. There was a familiar growl. Zell gasped, looking up into glaring green eyes. "Chickenwuss..." Another growl was heard, one laced with impatience or annoyance. Zell wasn't sure, if there was even a difference between the two.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" The tattooed blond finally demanded. Seifer was the last person he'd expect to see here, except perhaps Squall. He thought the other blond was on vacation in Fisherman's Horizon, or had it been Ester? Zell couldn't remember. He'd been trying hard lately to not think about the larger man.

Seifer rolled his eyes and just started walking, not offering him an answer. Zell was so thrown by this unexpected turn of fate that he took a few moments to realize he was being carried. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk, you know!" He yelled even though his body and heart thrilled at Seifer carrying him, even just touching him.

"Shut up," Seifer told him. "You can barely walk." The older man made no move to put Zell down, continuing toward the inn.

"I'm not that bad!" Zell yelled, getting fired up and ready to argue like he always did. _Damn Seifer, anyway,_ he thought. The other blond pissed him off like no other. Some things he doubted would ever change.

Resigned to his current predicament, Zell sighed. His eyes caught sight of the large full, moon above. It really was beautiful, he mused. A truly majestic and magical thing. _Magical…_ Much to Seifer's further annoyance, if the grunt meant anything, he shifted around and pulled out the tiny leaf.

_Repeat your wish under the light of the full moon,_ the old man had said. It still seemed crazy, but the wish he had thought of then had been to have Seifer care about him. Maybe this was all coincidence, but Seifer was there.  _What the hell._ He gave a mental shrug. _What do I have to lose?_ Holding the clover in his palm, he closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath, not wanting Seifer to hear him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Seifer asked, sounding only a little irritated and mostly… amused.

That caught Zell's attention, and he looked up a bit wide-eyed, thinking himself caught and trying to come up with some way to fix things. "Uh…"

He breathed a sigh of relief when Seifer just shook his head and kept walking. Hopefully the larger man wouldn't mention it again. He imagined he did look silly holding the leaf out on his hand like that with his eyes closed and mumbling under his breath.

The rest of the distance to the inn was covered in silence. Zell wrapped his hand around the clover, unsure what to do with it. He thought over the odds of just coincidentally running into Seifer in the small, very out of the way village. The only reason he'd passed that way was because of the couple he had been escorting had mentioned it, and spoke so highly of it, he thought he'd check it out.

"You're awfully quiet, chickenwuss. You sick or something?" Seifer's deep voice brought his attention up to the other man as they entered the inn. The older blond was watching him with an eagle eyed gaze. He wished he felt like fighting about his current position. Seifer carrying him was full of so many problems.

"Hardy har har." He shifted wanting on his own feet. This was embarrassing, and he didn't want Seifer putting him to bed, as it almost seemed like the other intended, like some child. He was a high ranking SeeD!

Seifer didn't seem to notice his antsy-ness, or ignored it. Zell sighed and shifted again, earning himself a small glare and a grunt. "Hold still, dammit," the larger blond cursed. Zell only squirmed again.

"I can walk, you know," he informed the older man, again. Sure, he was pretty certain he'd imagined similar scenarios to this, but never any with such… platonic circumstances. Seifer had always been rushing him off to bed to ravish.

His words went ignored, again, Seifer simply carrying him toward an inn room. Not his own, he noticed, though he wouldn't have been surprised if the other man knew which room was his. "Hey, my room's…" He started, not wanting to think about sharing sleeping arrangements with Seifer.

"We're going to my room," Seifer informed him without so much as a glance. The ex-knight’s behavior was both puzzling and concerning.

Zell was silent awhile, long enough for them to get to the room and for Seifer to put him down on the single double-sized bed that took up the majority of the modest room. "Wait… why… what the hell is going on?!" It'd been a weird ass night and things were only getting screwier, as far as Zell saw things.

"Just lie down and go to sleep," Seifer commanded as he pulled off his duster. "We'll talk tomorrow." He kicked off his shoes and plopped himself down by Zell. It seemed he planned to follow his own advice, so to speak, closing his eyes and putting his arms beneath his head.

"But…" Zell started but a one-eyed glare silenced him. He found he didn't have the energy or want to argue with Seifer. Doing so was usually pretty pointless anyway. Sitting up, he tugged off his shoes and then crawled under the covers. If Seifer was making him stay, he was going to damn well be comfortable, he decided, as he shifted to try to be; much to Seifer's annoyance, if his growl meant anything.  His shirt and shorts soon joined his shoes; only in his boxers, he got comfy and began to doze off, missing the somewhat shocked looked he was receiving from his very awake and almost nervous looking bed buddy.

*************

Zell groaned as he stirred from his sleep. Cracking his eyes open, he realized it was still dark. He couldn't have been asleep for too long. When he shifted to get comfortable again, he whimpered, realizing what woke him. Spasms seized his back and he clenched his eyes closed, as well as his fists. He really wished he would have gotten that bath before bed he'd wanted, but he wasn't sure that it would have made any difference.

Biting his tongue, he forced himself to roll onto his back, panting as the muscles in his back tried to relax then clenched up again, over and over, relaxing a little longer each time until he finally relaxed back against the mattress. Being very athletic, he couldn't remember a time that any of his muscles had ever rebelled against him like this. It didn't make sense to him that it would be this bad from just sitting with poor posture for several hours.

Movement beside him reminded him that he wasn't alone. He bit back a sigh, hoping he hadn't already woken the other blond, but it was in vain. Feeling breath on his face, he opened his eyes, finding Seifer looking down at him not more than a foot away. The gaze was scrutinizing and intense, and the breath that continued to tickle at his face and neck was warm. Despite the pain in his back, he was aroused by the intensity of the gaze and the way the breath felt on his skin. Wearing only boxers while in bed with the man he had wet dreams about was not a very good idea, he concluded.

"Can you roll over?" The question was soft, making the deep voice sound like a rumble, almost like a purr, really, but he didn't want to think along those lines if he could help it. Nodding, he bit his lip and rolled over, slowly. He wasn't sure why the other man wanted him to, unless he wanted more of the bed, so he stopped once on his side with his back to Seifer.

He felt the other SeeD shift with an aggravated sigh and the growl of his name as the older blond shoved him not too gently onto his stomach. "Idiot. Now don't move," he was ordered. It wasn't like he was in much of a position to argue, even if he'd felt like it. Seifer was larger than him, and being that he was on his stomach with the very capable and intimidating presence hovering over him, he was very vulnerable. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Zell wanted to look and see what the other was doing, especially when he felt him get off the bed, but he stayed put. He wasn't sure his back would take twisting so he could follow Seifer's movement. It was a bit worrying, unable to see what the ex-Knight was up to, but he trusted him enough that he didn't think he was up to anything horrible. He hadn't done anything to piss the older man off lately that he knew of, so he should be relatively safe from anything not horrible, too.

The last thing he expected was to feel Seifer pull the covers away and straddle his hips. He was thankful for being on his stomach; because he had a feeling hiding his arousal would become a problem if this proceeded the way it seemed it was going to. The feel of strong calloused fingers kneading into the sore muscles of his lower back wasn't as arousing as it would have been if he wasn't sore, but Seifer was touching him, touching his skin, and that was arousing.

The potion, or what he assumed was a potion, was cold and a bit sticky on his skin, but it warmed quickly as Seifer worked it in. No words were said, and Zell startled as Seifer moved off him, realizing he must have dozed off while Seifer was working away the tension and spasms in his back. Risking it, he rolled over, pleased when there was no great pain in his back. However, he turned too soon, before Seifer had removed himself completely. As his thigh brushed between the older blonde’s legs, he caused the larger form to tense and fall forward, pinning him to the bed.

Zell swallowed thickly and looked up at him. "Sorry," he offered softly, eyes locked on Seifer's mouth. It was so close, so easily accessible. He caught himself moving his head forward and quickly pulled back.

"Chickenwuss," Seifer smirked at him. "I don't bite, hard." His head followed Zell's down, catching the smaller blonde’s full, pouty lips with his own. Zell froze, unable to believe what was happening. His breath came out quickly, his eyes wide as he stared up at the other. "Breathe," the older SeeD said, moving to lie beside the smaller man.

"Why did you do that?" Zell turned to face him, hanging on the edge of his seat, figuratively, waiting on the answer. It was so sudden, unexpected… out of character. His mind thought of his wish, but he couldn't possibly believe that was what had caused this.

Seifer propped his head up on his hand as he looked at Zell. "Because I'm sick of you staring at me, and seeing you in nothing but your boxers… Guy can only take so much, Dincht. I want you, simple as that." He leaned in and kissed him again. "But, not now. You need to rest. If you're going to be sore, it's going to be because that's how hard I fucked you, not because of something else." He grinned.

Zell rolled his eyes. "Jerk," he growled, rolling away from him. He shouldn't be surprised by Seifer's rather blunt way of looking at things. The man had always been a bit of a pig. He didn't fight, though, when strong arms wound around him and pulled him backwards. It was something he'd wanted for too long.

"When we get back to garden, I'll show you a good time, chickenwuss. Promise." Zell wasn't sure if that thrilled him or worried him, but he wasn't going to complain. He also was going to make sure that Seifer realized things were fifty-fifty right off, too. Maybe he'd drag him back to this little village for that chocolate and those games Ol' Pat had mentioned, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep, content in Seifer's arms.

Neither man noticed the tiny shadow coming through the window, backlit by the large full moon. Nor did they hear the lilting laugh as the small shadow hopped from the window or the smell of pipe smoke that lingered briefly in the air.


End file.
